


An Indecent Proposal

by sgtcyanide221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 10:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgtcyanide221b/pseuds/sgtcyanide221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A week without Sebastian drives Jim to think about his life and the time he is spending with the Sniper. Finally; he makes the decision that could alter his life forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Indecent Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> (Something which I wrote while on a short family break. I needed some MorMor fluff and this is the result.)

Barely audible; Jim let out a soft chuckle at the text currently illuminating this screen of his phone, announcing the imminent arrival of his better half.  
‘Much better half,’ Jim corrected aloud; his lips forming a small smile. Sebastian had been on a job out of London and contact had been sporadic at best over the seven days apart. The occasional ten minute conversation had barely even assuaged Jim’s panic. He hated the jobs that resulted in such an intense separation, even if the job was a necessity and Jim had required the full consortium of individuals dead, it would have eased his heart to have had Sebastian accompanied. Of course, his Tiger was far too good to agree to working with someone else. 

Jim padded from room to room of their high-end, Knights-bridge penthouse apartment. Interior design had never been an area with which Jim had ever felt particularly comfortable with; his being homeless and on the streets for such a large portion of his life. However, when it came to living with Sebastian, Jim had relinquished any issues which he’d had previously with control, and shared the responsibility of decorating the place they called home. Now, there was an alien concept for the Consulting Criminal and the Former Colonel of the British Armed Forces, disgraced in the eyes of the military, yet revered and respected by James Moriarty and his entire empire. 

The arrival of said sniper into Jim’s life was to signal the end of any semblance of normality that Jim had created at that point. Primarily, the relationship had been a business one; business which steadily progressed into something considerably more.  
Neither was particularly certain when they became a couple; the first time of angry sex after a messed up job? The first bout of physical violence… or the first time Sebastian felt comfortable enough to stay at the Penthouse without so much as asking. After it was strikingly obvious to the pair, the slightest alterations began: Seb moved from his old flat to join Jim in the penthouse, his clothes changed from the simple jeans and t-shirts of his past to expensive, fully-tailored suits. Jim wasn’t usually one for sharing the spotlight, however, when it came to Sebastian, it was more a matter of thrusting the other into the limelight for a change. 

Jim had fallen into a state of reverie when a second text arrived:

Nearly home, love; can I pick anything up for dinner? -SMx

He couldn’t help the roll of his eyes as he typed out a reply:  
Nothing for dinner. Bring yourself, Tiger: that’s all I need. -JMx

In years gone by, Jim would have frowned at the sentiment, however, now he understood that love could, perhaps, be the most powerful motivator of all, both in business and personal decisions. In Jim’s business dealings, since he had admitted to himself that he had fallen in love, he had been more ruthless than ever, cutting off deals which, otherwise, would have caused much unhappiness. 

He waited, curled like a spring for the moment when the door would open. A week Seb had been away, seven days. It had felt like considerably longer to Jim; swimming in the misery that loneliness had created around him in the wake of Sebastian’s absence. While the murmur around his employees had been that Jim was a maniac, (there was no denying that it were true in many respects: a maniac in charge of the runaway train that was his life), however, it had also allowed him the chance to think and contemplate just where his life was heading.  
The sound of the key in the lock startled Jim from his reverie and sent him tumbling from the sofa. He didn’t move for a moment or two, trying to collect his thoughts with a sighing groan. Jim used the sofa to push himself up and ran to the door, hauling it open. 

Sebastian, Jim noted, hadn’t slept for several days; the bags beneath his iridescent blue eyes were heavy and an unusual marring mark on the usually perfect skin, (save for the scars Jim which had places there himself.) Exhaustion radiated for every pore of his being as he leaned against the door frame huffing a sigh. 

“Evening, Kitten.” Purred the greeting; even his voice was tired; words cracking through sheer weight of effort of talking. 

“Shut up, Tiger.” Jim responded, gripping Sebastian by the arm and pulling him inside. He slipped the bags from Seb’s shoulder and discarded of them in the bedroom, immediately returning and guiding the sniper onto the sofa, dropping down beside him, offering a small smile. “Welcome home, love.” Jim laughed softly, resting his head against Seb’s chest and tracing small patterns onto the sniper’s chest, tracing the marks on the skin with preciseness and accuracy. Each one a small badge and declaration: His. 

“Yes; they’re still there, Jimmy.” Sebastian chided, withdrawing Jim’s hand and interlocking it with his own. “Haven’t gone and had a skin graft while I was away.” He huffed, rolling his eyes playfully. “Not that I’ve had time.”

Jim frowned and tucked his head under Seb’s chin. “They’re dead, then?” Like he even needed to ask the question: of course they were dead. Sebastian didn’t leave survivors. When Jim wanted someone dead, Sebastian made sure his will was carried out. Sebastian didn’t offer a verbal reply; instead, his lips brushed Jim’s hair softly. Tipping his head to look up at Seb, Jim grinned. “Always good to know, my love.” He whispered, leaning up to plant a declaration of love on Sebastian’s lips. There was little doubt in his mind, now; he did, indeed, love Sebastian and there was nobody else for him on the planet. Nobody else who could deal with his changeable nature to such a degree.  
“Sebby?” Jim hummed, nestling back into his position and toying with his pocket anxiously. “You’ve never been opposed to marriage have you?” Jim could feel the lips twitch into a smile against his hair, encouraging him to continue. “Because, what would you say if I just so happened to have stumbled across a small boutique in town which sold rose gold engagement bands with an engraving of one’s choice?” He mused, twisting his arm to pull out the small box from his pocket. 

“I’d tell you to keep talking, Kitten.” Sebastian replied gently. 

Jim nodded once and opened the box; the ring glimmered in the dull light of the living room. “Well, Tiger; would you do me the highest honor and marry me?” He grinned, shifting to the floor. The proposal hardly as exquisite as he would have liked, however, the fell from his lips with such ease, he was pleased to see the nod and grin in reply. 

“It would be my honour, James Moriarty, to marry you.” The words had barely been spoken when Jim had launched himself at Sebastian; arms winding about his lover’s neck tightly in an embrace of purest joy and happiness.


End file.
